


fire is for forging

by doofusface



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, post chroma conclave, post ep 76, watch this get jossed in a week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: Vex figures there's more than just dragon scales to be commissioned.Post ep 76.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's exactly what you think it is

“You seem perplexed.”

Vex is not perplexed. Confused, sure. Surprised, albeit in a disappointed manner, most likely. But not perplexed. Never perplexed.

(Had Percy brought a dictionary and/or thesaurus with him, a debate may have ensued, but alas, that was not the case.)

“A lot of dragon material to give to an… _ahem_ , interesting man we've met once, is all,” she replies not unkindly.

Percy fidgets with his glasses, reassessing the room—a lounge area in Scanlan’s mansion, decorated accordingly: masterful artworks hang on the walls, depicting their dragon-slaying battles. Their borders have small, sequential depictions of their quest for the vestiges, and he smiles a little when he gets to Pike’s. “Yes, well, he _did_ do us a great service.”

“And the City of Brass?” asks Vex, now definitely perplexed. “I doubt re-entry would be a good idea, not even by _your_ standards.”

She winks, he smirks.

“True, though I'm sure we could send a letter instead. Mayhaps a venue that would be agreeable to all parties involved.”

 _Diplomat_ , Vex thinks. “Odd that you think it necessary to craft us such armour, really. Or do you just want another set of high-fashion clothing at your disposal, _Lord de Rolo_?”

“Never, lo— _darling_ ,” replies Percy, his face burning.

(To be fair, so was Vex’s.)

They never did have that Talk, what with Fort Daxio burning on their return, and Raishan on the heels of Thordak. Not much time afterwards, either, going from city to city, camp to camp, burying friends and building homes.

Besides, Keyleth managed to have an exemplary sense of when not to enter the picture, and Vax had a lovely time using his newfound invisibility to mock his sister after every flirtation. It was vexing—pun intended—and the only reason they had time now was because Pike had spoken to the rest of the team in… a _stern_ manner, from what they could tell. They'd had free time since dinner, which was miraculously well before midnight this time.

 _Ah_ , the privileges of peace time.

…That didn't mean they couldn't try to skirt the issue, however, with Percy bringing up Senokir’s pending commission as a means of—for lack of a better word—stalling.

“Well,” Percy starts, clearing his throat, “I really should gather up those materials. And the sketches. And, er, find a way to contact the man…”

Vex watched him in an awkward silence, floundering much like herself when her brother had brought her to the wine cellar that day so long ago. Right after Percy had… well. And she'd… _well_.

Some things are never meant to be bottled up inside, really, and having died meant she realized this more than most of the living.

But she _is_ still Vex’ahlia; the roundabout, unreadable archer, and she'll have this moment since he'd had his in the woods of Whitestone, and in terrifyingly bad jokes in the City of Brass. _Revenge is sweet_ , she thinks.

“I can't help but wonder what you _really_ had planned to commission that day, darling,” she sighs, charming as ever. Her tone is thick with confusion, and her brows knit together to seal the deal. “ _Vax_ certainly had some ideas.”

“Really?” replies Percy, genuinely surprised. “What else could it have been?”

“Considering it was a _jeweler_ you were doing business with?” she scoffs, brows raised. “What do you think?”

Percy stares at her, squinting in confusion.

“’ _It was only a day or two ago’_ ,” she quotes, matching Vax’s voice. She feels her face burn as she says it, fully aware at the time (and much more now) what her twin was getting at. Vax certainly tried messing with them more than necessary, and the assumption would be fair.

“I'm afraid I don't quite follow, dear,” says Percy, his turn to have knitted brows. He scratched at his snowy hair, attempting to recall the moment.

Two days? What happened—

He died. He lived. There was an elephant.

A _kiss_.

He remembered Vax’s confused face, and how the question seemed so oddly worded. How Vex was giving her brother a Look—a _What Are You Getting At_ look. Keyleth’s half-veiled, yet giddy surprise.

Percy’s brows knit further. He keeps his gaze on the floorboard, decidedly against seeing _her_ reaction. “I—‘a few days’ would’ve been more apt, on his end.”

“He wasn't the studious one,” replies Vex airily, eyeing the floor as well. There's something so interesting about knotted wood, and the vague traces of said knots on flat flooring. Something about imperfections guiding one to become a better version of themselves.

Percy looks back at the paintings. He's running out of words, and it scares him.  “And when I said it would be a surprise?”

Vex nods slowly, awkwardly—so un-Vex-like, and yet so fitting; the woman inside who was afraid to ask things outright, lest the people she loved decided to leave her for it. Percy barely sees her from his peripheral, but it registers.

“A ring, then?” he says with a cough. He's _definitely_ out of words, now. Couldn't be more than a month of this… unofficial-officialness.

He sees her stiffen at his cough.

“Ah, Vex,” he treads carefully.

She's waiting for the punchline. The laugh. They're barely anything; a mess of stolen moments at the outskirts of a work-day, touches and kisses overshadowed by battles and poetic justice. Close friends with no roadmap to romance.

It would be safe to assume it to early. Too sudden.

“I would gladly give you one, you know. If you would have it,” Percy continues, voice soft and patient. Unassuming. He sighs; somehow it sounds self-deprecating, and Vex almost laughs. Before the silence takes over, he adds: “And me, by extension, I suppose.”

Vex huffs, crossing her arms. “’ _I suppose’_ —Percy, ask me properly if you will, or don't ask at all.”

If Vex wasn't aware how high Percy’s brows could shoot up, she was now—he stared at her like one of Trinket’s easy game, or Velora the night she visited and got caught sipping ale. She would've laughed, except…

Well, she assumed it was an empty offer.

So much for being perceptive.

“I—well—excuse me,” the tinkerer sputters out, hands shaking and gesturing to the door. “There's—um—“

Vex does something stupid.

She grabs his wrist, and holds him in place. Thank goodness for an archer’s grip; Percy was nimble when he wanted to be, and _my_ , did he currently want to be.

Her voice comes out like a secret. “Percy?”

“Vex.” He doesn't look at her, and his hands keep shaking. She holds them.

“ _Do_ you…?” she asks, voice even lower.

He sighs. _Clever_ , he'd called her. Clever indeed. “Well, _yes_ —“

The kiss wasn't expected, really. Mostly. If Percy had been expecting physical contact today, it was most likely in a form of a slap, or knuckles-on-flesh. Possibly a skewer of some sort, if things got _really_ bad. Nothing on his daily agenda included soft lips.

(It's worth noting that Vex was overly-affectionate to begin with, and the little death/revival cycles they'd gone through only added to that, but Percy wasn't big on assuming kisses would be attributed to him daily.)

Vex breaks it with a contented hum, eyes still closed as she pulls away. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she finally speaks. “Percival?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes crease with practiced glee, and she tilts her head ever so slightly at the door. “I think the children are watching.”

He turns to the doorway, and sure enough, Quor and Hunin are there, dressed in light armour and coats befitting nobility, with small smiles gracing their faces. Trinket’s behind them, looking on happily, as a bear is wont to do.

Vex laughs, calling them inside. “Hello, dears. What's the word?”

“Scanlan says Vax saw something on patrol, northward,” answers Quor, voice calm as ever. “He'd like a second opinion.”

“I'll be there shortly, Quor,” she says, patting them by the shoulder. Trinket rubs his head by her side, then Percy’s. The tinker scratches him behind his ear, and the bear gives off a happy hum.

The aasimar leave; Vex and Percy lock eyes. She grins. “Watch yourself, Percival. You've got precious cargo.”

“Oh?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

This _is_ something.

This is _them_.

“My heart, darling,” Vex laughs; it's open and free, and she feels like she's flown higher and farther than even on her broom.

“Why of course, dear,” Percy moves closer, kissing her hand. “Do take care of mine as well.”

“ _Mm_. Bring me that ring, and I'll see what I can do.”

She winks, leaving him in the room with Trinket, red-faced and sputtering at the bear helplessly.

“Well, now, Trinket,” he breathes, “how do I explain this to your _uncle_?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> hi


End file.
